


take our sweet time

by dogeared



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: M/M, New Relationship, post-2x07, sex with feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 20:15:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11387607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogeared/pseuds/dogeared
Summary: Magnus is laid out like every fantasy Alec was ever afraid of having, beautiful against the sheets, watching Alec and waiting.





	take our sweet time

Alec swallows and tries to take a deep, calming breath. He feels like he’s on high alert, except this isn’t a mission or a battle; this is Magnus’s loft, this is just the two of them alone, and he just—he _wants_. He’s hyperaware of the clink of the ice in Magnus’s glass, the jingle of his jewelry, the quiet shush of expensive fabrics he doesn’t know the name of whenever Magnus moves, of the beat of his own pulse thumping in his ears. He tries to tune back into the conversation, but Magnus’s cuffs, unbuttoned and loose, are brushing his wrists as he gestures, and all Alec can think about is what it would feel like to slide his hands underneath, his fingers against Magnus’s skin.

“Alec? Alexander. What has you so distracted?” Alec blinks and looks up at Magnus’s face, sees the way his mouth is turned down in a hint of a pout, and he licks his own lips.

 _You_ , Alec’s brain shouts at him. What he says out loud is, “Can we— Will you go to bed with me?”

Magnus’s gaze sharpens even as he hums languidly, like maybe he’s thinking it over. He doesn’t make Alec wait, though. He sets down his drink and stands up in one graceful move, holding out his hand for Alec to take. “How on earth could I refuse that request?”

Their first night together, Alec’s first time with any of this, he’d been so amped up on his own resolve and determination, on adrenaline and the need to prove something, to Magnus or to himself. And he was a little afraid that if he slowed down, he’d stop altogether. So he’d pushed through, pulled Magnus along with him, and there’d been so much to figure out, so many places to put his hands and his mouth, and he’d just kept fumbling forward into each next step, falling headlong into the pent-up rush to feel, to touch and be touched, and so grateful that Magnus was there to catch him.

The second time, the morning after, had been sleepy and messy and embarrassingly fast, at least for his part. Waking up to Magnus watching him intently, to Magnus asking “May I?” Magnus’s mouth on him, impossibly hot and wet; Magnus rutting against the crease of Alec’s hip and spilling against Alec’s skin like he was laying claim to him.

This will be their third time, and later, when he’s not so caught up in Magnus’s everything, Alec’s going to count it, and catalog it, because he waited so long for this, hardly dared to hope that he’d get to have any of this, and he wants to remember every single bit of it.

Now, though, Magnus holds out his hand, and Alec takes it, lets Magnus pull him up until he’s standing right in Magnus’s space, close enough that Alec’s sure Magnus can feel how hard he is. He slides his other palm up Magnus’s arm to his shoulder, the fabric smooth and cool and his skin warm underneath, and he slips his fingertips inside Magnus’s collar and leans in to kiss him. 

The contact crackles through him, and they open their mouths at the same time, and Alec licks his way inside until everything’s slick and breathless. 

Magnus groans and pulls away just far enough to mutter, “What’s got you so hot and bothered all of a sudden?” 

It doesn’t feel sudden to Alec. He feels like they’ve been heading here all evening, like those first confusing days of being the target of Magnus’s keen attention and trying to make sense of how he was feeling, of the ways he reacted in spite of himself.

Alec ducks back in and presses his mouth to Magnus’s neck, scrapes his teeth against Magnus’s jaw, and when Magnus sighs, it’s all Alec can do not to hoist him up and carry him bodily into the bedroom. He’s not sure yet how Magnus feels about that, but it goes on his list of things to find out. 

Instead, they stumble together through the doorway and toward the bed, and when they get there, Alec tips Magnus down onto it and stretches out half on top of him. 

Alec starts to lean in for another kiss, but Magnus cups a hand around Alec’s jaw, rings cool against his overheated skin, and asks, “Will you talk to me?” Alec closes his eyes for a few seconds to try to corral his thoughts and get his bearings. When he opens them again, Magnus is watching him patiently. 

“I just— You’re very . . . I couldn’t stop looking at you tonight,” he rushes out, and Magnus hums in what sounds like agreement, “and I want you to know how much this means to— I want to make this good. Uh, for you.” Alec’s not sure the tangle of words is exactly what he meant to say, and it’s hard to parse what the look on Magnus’s face means. 

“In that case,” Magnus says, his voice very soft, “I’m yours.” He tips his chin back and lets his arms fall to his sides, like he’s leaving his whole self wide open for Alec, and Alec has to clench his fists to stop his hands from shaking. When he feels like he has a little more control over himself, Alec sits back and does what he couldn’t stop thinking about earlier—he slips his fingertips under Magnus’s cuffs, ghosting them against his bracelets and the delicate skin of his wrists, skimming up the insides of his forearms, muscles tensing against his touch, brushing his thumbs against the creases of his elbows. Magnus shivers, and Alec bends down to kiss him again, warm and wet. 

Magnus’s sleeves go tight around his biceps, so Alec sets to work unbuttoning Magnus’s shirt instead, and when he gets the last one undone, he tugs on the drawstring of Magnus’s pants, which unties with a whisper. There are tiny snaps that are loud when Alec pops them open, and Magnus lifts up his hips so that Alec can drag them down and off. 

Magnus is laid out like every fantasy Alec was ever afraid of having, beautiful against the sheets, watching Alec and waiting. 

Alec presses a kiss to the center of his chest, nosing one of his necklaces out of the way, and fits his hands to Magnus’s hips as he kisses a trail downward. Alec tastes his skin, scrapes with his teeth again, this time against Magnus’s ribs, which makes Magnus gust out a breath, kisses the flat plane of his belly. When Alec glances up, Magnus’s eyes are closed, and it makes Alec brave enough to keep going, to press his lips to the curve of Magnus’s cock. He feels a tremor go through Magnus, and he smoothes his thumbs over Magnus’s hipbones while he explores, his mouth against Magnus’s hot skin. He gets a little lost in the sensation until he feels Magnus’s hand slide into his hair, and he bestows one more open-mouthed kiss that makes Magnus shudder before eeling back up Magnus’s body. 

Magnus looks a lot less put together than he had when Alec had started his descent. His shirt, still twisted around his shoulders, is wrinkled and askew, and he has a death grip on the silky tassel of one of the pillows beside his head. Alec slides his hand there instead, lacing their fingers together, and when he kisses Magnus, Magnus kisses him back hotly, holding Alec close with the grip he still has on his hair. 

Alec feels a little dazed when he pulls away to breathe, and he blinks dumbly at Magnus when he plucks at Alec’s collar. 

“Don’t you want to take some of these off?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow, and Alec goes lightheaded when he sits up too fast to strip off his t-shirt. When he’s sure he’s not going to fall over, he stands up next to the bed so that he can shuck out of his pants and socks and briefs, too.

“This okay?” he asks as he settles himself back down mostly on top of Magnus, his voice cracking a little at the feeling of so much skin pressed to warm skin. “Mmm, more than okay,” Magnus murmurs, and he shifts so that he and Alec are lined up perfectly, and suddenly everything’s a lot more urgent. Magnus is running his nails restlessly up and down Alec’s spine, and Alec pushes himself up on one elbow so that he can reach between their bodies and take them both in his hand. He’s leaking, and so is Magnus, and it’s just slick enough and tight and so intense that he can’t stop watching, and then it’s too much and he has to squeeze his eyes shut. 

When he opens them again, Magnus is looking right at him, his eyes gold and gleaming like a challenge. Alec can feel sweat prickling all along his hairline, and he adjusts his grip, pumps his hand and snaps his hips, and when Magnus throws his head back, it feels like the moment when Alec has an arrow nocked and his bowstring drawn tight, and then they both let go.

When Alec comes back to himself, his arm’s given out, and he’s slumped heavily on top of Magnus, who doesn’t seem to mind. He’s still stroking Alec’s spine lazily, leaving sparks and tingles in his wake. Alec pushes himself up again, a little shaky now. Magnus is smiling crookedly at him, and Alec kisses his chin, the corner of his turned-up mouth, the crinkles next to his eye, which makes Magnus huff out a laugh. 

He cards a hand through Alec’s hair, smoothing it away from his face, and he asks, “Is this what you wanted?” And Alec kisses him again, a sure smack that echoes in the quiet of the room, and says, “Yes.”


End file.
